No question now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which.
George Orwell, Animal Farm, Ch. 10
This is not a dissection nor a review of the work Animal Farm. The world has smart people who can write better reviews than me. This is about the relevance of Orwell's writing in today's world. This is about how 100 pages written six decades ago reminded me of the world I live in, how a world changed from an idea of Utopia to a dystopia , how freedom is just an idea and how our lives are driven by lies.
Next month, by this time, I will be a family man from a bachelor bloke. Lightning strikes when you are most unprepared for it, like when you are holding an iron rod. Lightning struck me when I was holding a plane load of iron pillars. The lightning went straight through my flux capacitor and here I am three years into the future. It doesn't feel so bad, but I am concerned about the aftermath of such an unprecedented event. Responsibility was never my accomplice. Well, I chose him not to be. He is like a laxative, shit happens when he's around.
It has come to my attention that people's opinion of software engineers is changing. This is a recent phenomena, instigated by the rumours spread by rival professions. I believe these rumours have their origination from secret mendicant organizations, who feel that we are taking away their rightful place in society. These rumours are going on a small trip now. To the outside of outer space [War cry]..
The year 2008 was a year for news about Olympics ,Mumbai and Obama. In Olympics it was of course a great year for India. And there was a good reason for the papers to celebrate the crowning of the three young men at the Beijing Olympics. But Beijing was also a photographers paradise. The most hyped and most ceremonious Olympic meet yet, there were enough photos available to the papers to fill all their pages. But with in a months time Olympics lost its charm in the papers, even though Bindraji gets a mention here and there and in TV Ads.
Teacher: Who won the bronze In Olympic wrestling for India? Appu : mmmm... i know... iknow.. i know... The Great Khali
Now that Olympics is over and none of the athletes are making news, the best knowledge people would have of wrestling would be of unusually tall men with loads of meat on their body shaped like bricks.
Then came the Mumbai tragedy. Which was a jolt to India, Indian politics, Media, and the security forces. Many heroes were made and many innocents slain. Two months have passed and still nothing is happening. Pakistan is still playing Tom,Dick and Harry. Lets hope everything goes well and we get the bastards!!
2008 was also the time for Obama to do his thing. Every little kid on the block was chanting Obama mantras. The papers had nothing but how Obama dressed ,how Obama ate and how Obama bathed!!! Michelle Obama also got a couple of headlines when the papers didn't know what else to write about Obama.
Teacher : Who is the President Of India? Appu : Oh Boy! Oh Boy! I know this too .. Obama!! [Teacher Frowns] Appu : Oh!! He is then the president of the world, is he?
Indians who had never seen an oath taking of the Prime Minister Of India or the President would have been swarming in front of the T.V. to see the latest news sensation, Barack Obama. Three days of non stop entertainment and celebration by the TV channels ; OBAMA LIVE!!!!. Our PM's and Prez's should also think of having those IPL girls around during their swearing in. I mean, it makes things more colourful and of course interesting.
Obama even had a comic book released. He is reeling in supporters by such publicity. Why can't Manmohan Singh get a comic? If Obama was a side kick to spider man our PM sould be the hero.
Jokes apart. Let us pray for Mr. Manmohan Singh's speedy recovery.
I can't predict for how long the papers will continue the Obama saga. They are writing everything that falls from his mouth, even the sneezes(I am sure that at least TOI publishes that). Till then lets wait for his swimsuit calender to come out. If all this can happen then why not a calender.
Hoping that the media in 2009 get reasons to share only good stuff. No terrorists, No hurricanes,No wars and India Rising!!!
Ever since I came to Bangalore, I have been a slave to the fast life. Never felt as fresh as I did 2 years back.
The occasional outings help a lot. Gets me unconnected from the world for at least sometime.Also, I stay away from all technology for an hour a day, when I reach home. Feels really good.One more way I found out is by cooking. But I have to eat what I cook, which makes the whole exercise meaningless :) .
Darkness was falling. He quickened his steps. He had to reach the valley before nightfall. Falling prey to some hungry carnivore was not the best of ideas. Shridharan Mashu ( Mashu means master in Malayalam) checked the time on his watch and also the sky.6:30, the twilight was fading, and that was bad. It would be dark in a matter of minutes, as it happens in this part of the country. The old battered torch was of no use in this dense forest.
Shridharan Mashu was a respected man in the village. Still a bachelor, and in his early thirties (Sweet 30's as he would call it); he was a teacher in the village in Wayanad. He taught at the only L.P. school in the village. He was happy that at least there was a school now. During his days, he had to walk 20 miles to the nearest school where he studied. He was perhaps till now the only person in the village who had gone to college. Being the son of the forest officer he was more privileged than the other children of the tribal village. After his Father had died in service, he had stayed on in the village as a teacher. His younger brother had got a job in the forest department and he had moved on to another range. During his college days he had read extensively the work of Marx .Though not inclined to any political party, he had circulated socialist ideas amongst the tribes. They were all ears and their eyes filled with admiration for him whenever he spoke. He was shunned by most of the tribesmen for his ideas, but they still respected him; because he knew more of the unseen world.
This day he was returning home after taking tuition for the Engineer Sir's daughter. The school had closed for the summer vacations, when the Engineer Sir came and requested him to help his daughter in maths. Mashu wanted to keep himself busy so he agreed after a lot of cajoling from Engineer sir.
He knew the forest well, but after night fall even the most experienced tribesman will find it difficult to find his way out. He had been walking for half an hour now. If he had been on the right path he would have reached the village 10 minutes back. He knew it was futile to continue again and that would result in going into more unfamiliar territory. His only protection was to find an Erumaadam (Tree house built by hunters) and take refuge in it and resume his journey at dawn.
He climbed a nearby tree to see if he could find anything in the diminishing light. He saw a light up ahead. "Ah!! Civilization, at least I am not lost." He thought. The light was stationary and that meant it was a house and not someone who had lost his way as he had. Vanquishing the shrubs in the path with his mighty torch, he followed the light. He cried out aloud, but couldn't get a response back. He was not even sure his voice reached there.
The hut stood in a small clearing. The source of light was a ranthal (kerosene lamp) at the window. He went forward and banged on the bamboo door. No response. Twice and thrice he tried. He went around the house. No sign of life. Just as he was about to push open the door, it opened.
She would be at least 70 odd years old, the lady. She was stooping. She would have been to his shoulder level if she stood upright. Age was showing on her face and hands.
Wrinkled and loose skin on her neck and hands. Her ears were sagged with holes, the size of bangles, where once ear rings had adorned. He wondered what she might be doing here, so far in the woods. And by the looks of it she appeared to be alone.
He suddenly found that she fit woman in the story, he had heard in his childhood. In fact, any child in the village heard from their parents; the story of the old woman in the forest who stole children and ate them for dinner. He was too old for that story now and smiled unknowingly; what all parents cook up to keep their child safe and from going into the woods.
She stared at him for moment through the cold grey eyes. He met her eyes. She seemed startled by the presence of the stranger.
‘Amma’, he called her. 'Do you know how to join back to the path to the village?'
She nodded. She raised her hand halfway, as to show him the way, but brought it down.
'The woods are dangerous in this time of the day', she warned. Her sparingly cultivated teeth showed. What was left had the dark brown colour of chewing betel leaves.
'Then can I stay here till dawn, Amma?' he asked. 'That is, if it is not a burden for you'.
She looked bewildered. Had he asked something wrong, Mashu thought.
She looked down, and said 'If you want to stay here you are most welcome. But let me
remind you no one likes to come here to stay, lest talk with me.'
That was a strange remark. 'It is no problem with me Amma, I will stay here. And I won't cause any disturbance also, I promise Amma'. He smiled. He could see her gaze shifting when he called her Amma.
The hut was a single room. Except for a charcoal stove in one corner, it was more or less empty. A mat made of palm leaves was rolled up against the wall and a few utensils made of clay were near the stove. The stove was cold. A small pile of dry branches decorated another side of the wall, to indicate cooking was done once in a while. She ushered him inside, rolled out the mat and gestured him to sit. As a polite gesture Mashu stood there until Amma had sat down. She sat with great difficulty. But after resting her legs she seemed relieved. Mashu sat down on one side of the mat.
She seemed to be in her own world, staring at the wall, as though it was a screen with a movie playing. Mashu decided to break the silence.
‘Amma , what is your name?’ . She was startled and looked around to see who had disturbed her from her dream. She saw him sitting there and remembered she was not alone.
‘Amma , what is your name?’ Mashu repeated softly. She started laughing loudly, baring her brown teeth. She stopped suddenly.
‘Kakkathiamma is what they call me, the children. They run away on seeing me’. He face turned sad. ‘They run away on seeing me. They think I will hurt them, don’t they?’.
She looked at Mashu, her grey eyes had a glint in them. Mashu had no answer. He wanted to change the topic. But he said, ‘No, they don’t . Who would run away from a sweet lady like you?’
‘They have heard stories. They know they aren’t supposed to come near me. ’ she retorted.
She continued on, ‘I fell in love with a man, an outsider, was it my mistake. They stamped me an outcast. They shunned me from the tribe.’ She continued as though there were many things she had to say, ‘I married the man, we moved off far away from the tribe.’ She stopped. Tears had started flowing from her eyes. They shone on her skin like beads. Mashu understood her and the loneliness over the years. ‘Now I am all alone, couldn’t bear a child, my husband taken by the forest gods and I live because I cannot die.’
He placed a gentle hand on her palm, rubbed it. She clutched it firmly. She looked into his eyes. He could see not coldness in them now. Only the remains of a youth trampled down by customs.
‘Thank you son, for listening to me. It’s been long since anyone….’
‘Say , did you have dinner.’ . Time had well passed 8:30 now. The question made Mashu’s Stomach grumble. Kakkathiamma stood up and picked up a pot. She approached him with a fistful of berries and handed it over. Mashu and Amma ate together. After the dinner, Kakkathiamma, offered him the mat to sleep on. Mashu declined . He helped her settle down and laid down to sleep. Kakkathiamma had left a deep effect on him.
The sun rose as always. Light poured into the house through the lone window.
Shridharan Mashu rubbed his eyes, stifled a yawn and sat upright. The cottage looked as he had entered it yesterday. The mat was rolled up. The only scenic change was the water boiling on the stove and the billowing smoke that rose out through the window throwing patterns of sunlight in the smoke. He stretched his legs and walked out through the open door. His eyes were searching for Kakkathiamma. She was no where to be seen.
He waited in the doorstep for a few minutes before calling out again ‘Amma, where are you?’.
He walked around the house and followed a path he saw.
He heard the sound of crackling of leaves in front. He advanced towards it, and saw a person collecting wood . He had a closer look. It was not Kakkathiamma. It was a tribesman he knew, Muthu. He called out to him. Muthu spotted Mashu standing there and rushed to him. Mashu told Muthu how he had got lost and about Kakkathiamma. Muthu’s eyes widened. Mashu asked him to help find her. Muthu was reluctant at first. Mashu convinced him to do a favour and that no body would know about it. Finally Muthu agreed. They traced back to the hut and started searching the surroundings. No signs still. Suddenly Mashu heard Muthu’s shout. He raced to the grove of cocoa trees.
She was lying there face down, a clutch of cocoa leaves in her hand. Mashu picked her up and asked for Muthu’s help. Muthu took a step back, ran and vanished into the woods.
Mashu took her in both his arms and edged forward. He reached the hut and laid her down in front of it. Checked her pulse. It was feeble. Hearing a sound he looked back and saw Muthu carrying a stretcher made of wines and bamboo.
Mashu helped Muthu to get her on the stretcher. Muthu led the way and in minutes the forest path was clear. A jeep came around the path loaded with herbs to the local market. Mashu stopped it and with Muthu’s help got Amma on the jeep.
Muthu stayed back and watched as Mashu and Kakkathi made way forward. Mashu completely understood and looked at Muthu with grateful eyes. Muthu smiled and went back into the forest.
Doctors and nurses had tried their best at the Clinic. There was not enough time to take her to the nearest hospital. She opened her eyes for a brief moment. She held his hand. ‘God Bless you son’ . He could feel the warmth of her body receding. A life devoured by the ghosts of her past.
Six years have passed since that day. He couldn’t blame the tribesmen, this was how their tradition had survived over the years. Untouched by outsiders, their customs still lived on. And Kakkathiamma still lived on in the heart of Shridharan Mashu.
Words once said cannot be taken back.. So is the case of life once lived
This is a true story .May be not of one person alone.It has been assimilated from the lives of different men I know.Let this not happen to you.
And now I sit here on this stony rail, Feeding the pigeons off my hand.
I don't know which way i took off in life. I wanted everything, money,fame...Though I wasn't famous with the like of Mahatma Gandhi, I did become popular amongst my friends.
Got married , got on with life. Had children to whom i could never say I loved them.Worked very hard. At times I would say to them , I had sacrificed a lot for them. BUT WHAT??The greatest of sacrifices could have been my time. I could not or rather did not spend any time with them.. I was in a rat race.
Did I love my wife?? How could I have loved her when the money and fame I boast about got me a mistress.When I look back, I was not able to give her a moment of peace or love.Now I realize how she felt, when left alone in this age where all the money and fame is of no use .I let her die without being loved and that, will be my fate too or worse. At least she had our children .
I was a bad example for my boys. But I am glad they never followed my path. It may had left a deep scar that they vowed never to be like me . In those few times I see them, I see their love towards their family. How their kids are happy around them. How they go on calling for Daddy for everything. I would want to go back into time, correct my mistake.
On that day I wrote a letter,For forgivenessIn spite of all i had done,And for love For once before I die.
A few days later instead of a letter, my sons came to me. They said they had forgiven me .But they were sad for their mother. If only I had said it earlier. That day I cried and cried. But my kids were there to get me up.
Now I understood how my life should have been... If only i could have relived my life......
'Give him dreams that make this day to him miserable', a gruff voice spoke in the dark. The voice seemed distant but it was so strong my heart was still for a while. It continued, 'Let him sleep,he needs sleep, I want him to suffer in his sleep,so his thoughts would wander back to me; (he will )Kneel down before me and do my will'. The voice grew louder and stronger and sharp. So sharp I could feel it piercing my body and also the pain. His voice or hers I couldn't decipher. It was so hypnotising.
I was surrounded by Darkness but still could make out a man's figure on the ground. He seemed to be in pain. I couldn't move, it was as though my feet were nailed to the ground. The voice started off again. I tried to locate it but seemed to come from the man on the ground. 'kneel,Kneel,KNEEL', it commanded.The man started moving as rigid as someone suffering from fits. I started to hear distant music play, ,music so soothing. The voice had also heard it. It was mumbling in languages I never heard before. I could make out he was commanding the young man on the ground. He was gasping for air and struggling like a worm might on a fishing hook. The music was going away and suddenly the man stopped struggling. Was he dead? The music came closer.It could see Light at the end. End of what? Is this a room I am in? The Light seemed to appear from nowhere. It was as though someone was there and i could not see him due to the light. It shone so bright in my eyes.It floated toward the man. He seemed young, the man. And also familiar. An odd resemblance to.....me!! Oh Lord, it was me. But how can it be. I am right here unable to move.Various questions raced through my mind. I was between the Light and Dark now. Halfway between. One part of me shadowed by the Darkness and one part illuminated by the Light.
He picked me up from the ground. I cuddled into his arms. I could see it was me in his arms. I was like a baby in his Mother's arms sleeping on her bosom. There was no longer any sign of pain, just peaceful sleep. The thing in the dark started speaking again or rather crying in frustration 'GIVE HIM TO ME, HE IS MINNNE..'. The Light hadn't spoken since it appeared. It commanded in a voice full of love and care for the child in his hands. 'LEEAVE MY CHILD ALOONE'. Voice so strong and compassionate,the light suddenly spread into the dark. I glimpsed a man.. a woman... an animal... i don't know. It was just for the blink of an eye i saw it covering its eyes from the light and receding into the dark. Seemed as if the light inflicted pain on it. The light went back suddenly as it spread. It was left as before halfway between the Light and Dark. I felt myself moving now. Moving towards my sleeping self. Soon I was asleep in those hands so soft as feather and in the warmth of his bosom.
എന്താ, ലോകം നന്നാവുവാണോ എന്നൊരു തോന്നല്. അല്ല, ഈ കഴിഞ്ഞ കുറച്ചു ദിവസങ്ങളിലെ ഓര്ത്ത് പറഞ്ഞു പോയതാ... പ്രതിപക്ഷവും ഭരണപക്ഷവും ഒരുമിച്ചുകൈ പൊക്കി സമരം ചെയ്യുന്നു!! നമ്മുടെ വിഴിഞ്ഞം പ്രശ്നത്തിണ്റ്റെ കാര്യമാ പറയുന്നത്. എന്തയാലും ഒരു കാര്യതിനെങ്കിലും ഒന്നിച്ചല്ലൊ. പിന്നെ സ്മാര്ട്ട് സിറ്റിയുടെ കാര്യം. അതും നടക്കാന് പോകുന്നെന്ന്. കൊള്ളാമല്ലോ. ഇതുപോലെയാ ബി.എം.ഡ്ബ്ള്യൂ. ഫാക്റ്റൊറി യും കൂടെയിങ്ങു പോന്നിരുന്നെങ്കില്...... ഏതായാലും ബോധൊദയം ഉണ്ടായതു നന്നായി. അല്ലെങ്കില് നരഭോജികളെ പോലെ യാധര്ത്യത്തീന്ന് ദൂരെ ജീവിക്കുന്ന ഒരു പറ്റം മനുഷ്യരായി കണക്കക്കിയേനേ ലോകം നമ്മള് കേരളീയേരെ. കോളയോടു കാണിച്ചതും നന്നയതെയുള്ളൂ . പല രാജ്യങ്ങളിലും നിരോധിച്ചിട്ടുള്ള സാധനങ്ങള് മറ്റും കിട്ടുന്ന ഒരു അപൂര്വ സ്ഥലം ആണല്ലൊ ഇന്ത്യ. ഈ ഒരു നീക്കം ഇന്ത്യയിലേക്കു പാഴ്വസ്തുക്കള് കയറ്റിയയക്കുന്ന ബഹുരാഷ്ട്ര കംബനികള്ക്കു ഒരു തിരിച്ചടിയാകട്ടെ.
ഇനി കുറച്ചു കാര്യങ്ങള് കൂടി ശരിയായാല് കേരളം കുറച്ചെങ്കിലും വിമോചിതയാകും. നമ്മുടെ പാര്വ്വതി കണ്ട കാഴ്ച്ചകളും , പാവം സ്വാമി അയ്യപ്പണ്റ്റെ പേരിലെ പ്രശ്നങ്ങളും അങ്ങനെ ചിലത്.
